Helping Hands
by GhirardelliFan
Summary: When Dean plays a melody on Gabriel's Horn of Truth, nobody expects it to bring the archangel back.  But even with Gabriel's decision to help the brothers, he still has his own issues to deal with.  No slash.
1. Finding a Friend

"I think it must be Gabriel's Horn of Truth." Dean stated as he turned the horn in his hands. Sam sat next to him, keeping an eye on the possible weapon. Dean looked at the edge, and ran his fingers over the Enochian symbols carved into the bottom.

The instrument almost screamed of powerful magic, but neither of the two brothers wanted to put it down. They had recently found the horn, in an old stash they believed belonged to the late Bela, and it was the only object they took away from other evil objects.

They burned every other artifact.

"Should we call Castiel?" Sam asked. "If it's an angelic tool, we probably shouldn't be touching it."

"I've done my research on this, Sammy." Dean replied. "I did a lot of research waiting for Castiel to show up last time. He came for this, but now I want to know the truth."

"So...we're _not_ calling him?" Sam asked, this time sounding indifferent. Dean smiled, it was certainly one of the benefits to having a brother with no soul. There were fewer arguments when Dean did something he knew was unethical, because to Sam things simply needed to be logical. For whatever reason, payback on Cas seemed perfectly logical.

"Only if it's through this horn." Dean replied, feeling reckless.

He lifted the instrument to his mouth, remembering his scattered high school days where he tried playing the trumpet for a brief period, and blew.

The song that came out sounded raspy, quiet, and after a pitiful melody Dean put the horn down. Dean immediately knew it had nothing to do with his own playing skills, but something powerful behind the instrument prevented him from playing it with any quality.

"Well, that was uneventful." Dean said, and Sam shrugged. Dean placed the horn in the back of the Impala and turned the ignition.

As they drove the Impala, which had a new dent on the front that Dean constantly complained about, a sweet melody began to play. It grew louder until Dean slammed on his brakes and clamped his hands over his ears in agony. Before long, he habitually turned his eyes down and away from a light that began to form within the car.

Just before Dean's eyes closed, he noticed Sam turning to the back of the car. "Sammy, look down!"

Sam ignored Dean. After being Lucifer's vessel for a period of time, as well as having no soul that could be burned, he knew an angel's untethered presence wouldn't burn him the way it once would have. He could withstand the noise just fine, the light wouldn't be much worse.

A moment later, Sam shouted. "Dean! Holy freakin mother of nutters! Dean, look!"

_Holy freakin what? Right, he has no soul to understand the embarrassment he should be feeling after that._ Dean thought briefly before opening his eyes. The light was brief, only a flash that had died out as quickly as it came. He turned to the back of the car, following Sam's line of sight. Sitting there, obviously dazed, sat Adam.

"Adam?" Sam asked, looking at his half-brother in shock. Adam's eyes slowly lifted to Sam and Dean's face. Adam raised an arm and looked at it, before groaning loudly.

Sam looked at Adam's clothes as well, realizing they were _old_. Adam was wearing a jacket and pants made of well-worn leather, a light tan color that looked completely authentic, and very uncivilized.

When Sam looked at Adam's face a second time, he realized there were more differences that he should have already picked. Considering he was an exceptional hunter, he should have realized what was wrong immediately.

Adam's hair was longer, blonde, and everything that was not tied back in what looked like a primitive knot of rope curled in tight rings against his head. And his _eyes_. They were a clear blue, very unlike the hazel Sam remembered Adam having.

And the black streaks across Adam's left eye were definitely not there before the apocalypse. They started at his temple, and it looked as if they had been tattooed to look like scars moving across his eyes.

All in all, this Adam looked both primitive and _wicked_.

"You're not Adam." Dean said after a moment, drawing Sam back to the present and focusing his attention on the new situation. "Michael?"

"No." The boy said. He looked drugged as he looked around the car, trying to get his bearings.

"Then who are you, angel?" Dean snapped, frustrated at the angel's slow mental processes.

The angel looked down at his worn leather pants, and both brothers noticed the matching leather boots that looked as primitive as the rest of the angel's outfit.

"I told you guys. Well, I think I did." The angel lifted his head with a struggle, and rubbed his eyes as if to clear whatever cobwebs were fogging his brain. "I was in witness protection. Obviously not anymore, but you mutton-heads should get the idea."

"Gabriel." Sam and Dean said together. They looked at each other briefly, before turning back to the previously dead angel.

Sam recovered first, of course. "You're not the Gabriel we know."

"I don't _look_ like the Gabriel you know." Gabriel muttered. "And I have to say, I'm surprised _that_ is surprising you. Trust me, babe, I'm gonna change right back when I can."

The archangel paused, looking at Sam a little closer. "What's wrong with you?"

"He lost a piece of him in Hell." Dean replied sarcastically. "His entire soul, actually. While you were down there, did you see it hanging around?"

"Why would I go to Hell?" Gabriel asked, feeling as slow as he was. "Oh wait, I get it." Gabriel's eyes didn't leave Sam, though, and he squinted slightly. "Why don't you get it back for him?"

"You're kidding, right?" Dean asked. "If it's so easy, why don't you get it yourself?"

Shocking them all, Gabriel nodded. "Okay."

With that, Gabriel shifted to the side of the car and leaned in the corner, letting himself slump in what appeared to be a half-drugged coma.

Dean didn't want to place any hope on a former Trickster, and Sam wasn't capable of hope, so they didn't acknowledge the conversation. There wasn't much for Sam and Dean to do with an out-of-it angel, so they quietly started the car and drove to the next motel.

"Now we call Cas?" Sam asked. He knew Dean was having trouble with his friend. Every time the two friends met they were practically clawing at each other's throats. Cas had a war he needed to take care of, and Dean had a brother he was constantly looking after.

"Not yet," came Dean's expected reply. "We've never called Cas before when it came to Gabriel or Trickster matters. We can handle this one on our own too. Castiel is probably too busy anyways, he can come himself when he has the time."

The two brothers looked at Gabriel slumped in their back seat. Sam glanced between the Impala and the motel room. "Should we leave him here?"

"No." Dean gave Sam an incredulous look. "We're not going to leave something in my car that has the potential of hurting it. I already have a dent on the front of my poor baby, I'm not going to let anything else happen."

"Huh." Sam said. For the millionth time since Sam came topside, he was wondering about the soul thing. _Does this mean that a car takes higher priorities than an angel? Or just in this case? _"So what do we do with him?"

"We keep an eye on him. Maybe put him in a ring of holy oil for the night while we get some sleep." Dean rubbed his face. "Scratch that. He's sleeping on the floor in our room. I'm not going anywhere else tonight to sleep, we'll have to risk it."

Together, they pulled Gabriel out of the Impala, draped his arms over their shoulders, and dragged him into the motel room.

Gabriel finally woke up when they entered the door. "What happened?"

"We blew your horn. I'm guessing that's what caused all this." Dean said. "You have any answers with that?"

"Yes." Gabriel answered, and a nasty look crossed his face. "You're jerks."

A fire rose up in Dean and he let go of Gabriel. The angel slumped toward Sam, too weak to carry himself at the moment. Dean walked to the bathroom sink, splashing water on his face, before turning back to Gabriel.

"Excuse me?" Dean asked. He flipped on the lights while Sam lowered Gabriel to the ground. "Are you blaming us for this?"

"How _dare _you touch it." Gabriel snapped. "I was dead, and perfectly fine with that. You brought me back, you foolish dog. How dare you go anywhere near it, you flee-infested monkey?"

"Well excuse me, ugly, but I certainly didn't blow into your horn thinking I'd bring you into my life again." Dean snapped back.

"You careless, egotistical, _stupid_ buffoon!" Gabriel snapped, and for a half a second both Dean and Sam could see a look of anguish cross his face. He quickly replaced it with a scowl. "I did what I needed to do for your war, so why couldn't you just let it be over!"

Sam leaned against the wall, indifferent to the raised voices around him. When pure emotions were involved like this, Sam didn't really understand, or care, what happened. Logically, having Gabriel back could be a good thing. The archangel certainly proved himself to be a helpful asset in the past.

"_Where is it_?" Gabriel demanded, more than asked, obviously looking for his horn.

"The horn? We're not giving it to you." Sam stepped in. "We haven't verified that you are who you say you are. Until then, we must assume you are tricking us."

"You never verified it before."

"Castiel verified it. Before that, it didn't matter if you were telling the truth. Now it does." Sam pointed out.

"We could call Castiel." Sam turned to Dean once again. For a moment, Dean seemed to be considering it.

"No." Both Dean and Gabriel said at the same time. Sam and Dean looked at Gabriel. He looked at them, almost pleading. "I can hear the angels talking about this new war. I don't want to be taken in again. This war is purely between angels, and I don't want to fight anymore."

"How long before you get your strength back?" Sam questioned, wondering how long they might be stuck with the archangel.

"Considering my substantial experience with coming back from the dead?" Gabriel said mockingly. After a moment, he frowned. "Actually, I do have experience with that. It'll be a week, tops, before I'm at full strength."

"Well then." Dean clapped his hands. "We wait, and figure things out."

The two brothers pulled a cot out of the closet for the archangel to sleep on, he seemed to need it in his weakened state. Nobody mentioned Gabriel's earlier half-dazed agreement to find Sam's soul, and Dean tried hard to _not _feel the heavy disappointment when he realized it was never an agreement at all.

Regardless of whatever happened, Sam and Dean knew it would be a long week.

**A/N:** I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. I'm a huge sucker for Gabriel, and I know I'm going to have some fun with this story. It's gonna be a little crazy, because I'm just going to have fun with the characters, but I hop you like it!

**Please Read and Review!**


	2. Beginning to Understand

**Chapter 2**

**A/N: Hey everybody. I'm looking for a Beta Reader. If any of you know how I get one, I'd appreciate it if you passed the information along. **

**I hope you've enjoyed the chapter. Thanks for the help!**

Gabriel awoke the moment the sun began to rise and the birds began to sing. For a moment, he rested in the worn pull-out cot, loving the feel of the earth's gravity pulling his vessel into the mattress. Out of all the things he could possibly miss about being alive and tethered to a vessel, the fact that gravity made the top ten surprised him.

Dean Winchester slept on, looking as if he wouldn't wake for several hours yet. Sam's bed didn't even look touched, and Gabriel wondered if the boy had even slept that night. Something had been seriously wrong before, for even Gabriel's weakened grace to sense it.

Still, Gabriel wished he could sleep as long as the Winchesters, but he knew the grace inside him wouldn't allow him to rest longer than he needed. Of course, he only knew that after two thousand years of trying to be lazy.

Gabriel flexed his fingers, feeling the grace shift inside his bones. This physical being was amazing, glorious, wonderful to test out again and again. But it was also very lonely to confine himself in this being, unable to bond with his archangel brothers the way he once did.

But he had given up that life, and very rarely felt regret about it. He was too broken to return to his brothers; he would never feel utterly comfortable with them again.

With a sigh, Gabriel went to the bathroom, took one look at his hair, and immediately knew exactly what he would be doing for the rest of the morning.

...SPNL...

When Sam came into the motel room, he could hear the familiar Enochian words being spoken, but not by Castiel's oh-so-familiar voice. Even if Sam couldn't differentiate the voice from Castiel's, he would have known immediately that it wasn't his friend by the loud curses that immediately followed.

"Stupid...blonde...sickening..._curls_." Sam snorted, realizing the archangel Gabriel was having trouble with his_ hair_. He quickly got up, made his way into the bathroom, and peeked in.

There stood Gabriel, glaring at his image in the mirror as though it were taunting him, with a motel comb in his hand. The poor comb had lost most of the prongs, and Sam knew immediately they were lost somewhere in the archangel's hair.

And of course, Sam started to laugh.

"It's not funny." Gabriel snapped. "Do you know what these curls have done to me? Do you realize the archangel 'Gabriel' is nearly always portrayed with feminine features, if not as a female _entirely_?" Gabriel huffed and turned back to the mirror. "No vessel of mine has ever bordered on _female_, but some mocking deity decided to have a good laugh, and put me up with _this_."

Gabriel looked honestly angry. There was no hidden smile on his face to suggest he was joking, but that didn't stop the situation from being funny. Only because Sam couldn't remember if this was a 'soul' thing where he should be showing empathy, he schooled his face to hide the laughter.

"_Raa Nokine denolte saBanne._" Gabriel muttered into the mirror and Sam watched as a bright white light flashed. When the light died down, Gabriel's hair was a little more tame, and the super-blonde curls appeared to be a little darker.

"I thought you were powerless for the week." Sam said, watching as Gabriel pulled the comb through his hair once again. This time the comb didn't snag and Gabriel gave a little grin of triumph.

"Nope, it'll be a week until I'm back to normal. I'm feeling pretty good already, though." Gabriel pulled the comb through his hair a few more times, than shrugged and through the comb into the trash. At Sam's questioning glance, Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Can't do much more with it now. If I make too many physical changes at once, I'll get sick."

"Why don't you stay the way you are?" Sam asked, remembering his younger brother's face and comparing it to the one in front of him.

"Since this appearance won't draw any attention?" Gabriel asked sarcastically, raising his eyebrows. He looked down at the leather pants, vest, and boots he wore. Finally, he looked at his face in the mirror and Sam knew he was focused on the black streaks across his eye. "It used to be fine, but things have changed."

"Things are always changing." Sam replied, feeling stupid. Well, he didn't _feel_ stupid, but he knew it was a stupid thing to say. Regardless, Gabriel nodded.

Turning to Sam, Gabriel looked at him again and frowned. "I remember Dean talking about your soul... What am I missing?"

Sam frowned back at him, "I lost it when I was dragged out by Crowley. What you see here is all he could salvage."

They were interrupted by Dean walking into the bathroom. Startled, he stopped rubbing his eyes and widened them to take in the archangel and his brother. Flinching, he stepped back, "Oh, I forgot. You're here. So what is this? Are we having our meetings in motel bathrooms now?"

Gabriel turned to Sam and whispered, "Not a word about the hair."

...SPNL...

Several days of driving later, they finally made it to the west coast. Gabriel had barely moved in the back seat, choosing to meditate

"There's a case in town." Dean reminded Sam. "Remember why we're here. Even if we have an angel distraction, we still need to do our jobs."

"Right." Sam replied. "You didn't need to remind me."

"And why am I the 'distraction?'" Gabriel asked, annoyed. "I'm already stronger than you two yahoos. I can hold my own, and even better than that, hold your own."

Dean shook his head. "You're going to help us?"

"I've got nothing else better to do."

"Why _are_ you still here?" Sam asked, "You've never stayed around before, and we're not exactly able to keep you any safer than anyone else could."

"I'm not frightened." Gabriel looked insulted. He nodded toward the horn that Dean kept hooked to his belt. "I can't take that until you give it to me willingly, since you're the one who brought me back. I can leave without it, but I'm uncomfortable with that. I don't suppose you'll give it to me now?"

Dean fingered the horn, "Why? What do you do with it?"

"It's my calling." Gabriel answered. "I'm my father's messenger, and the automatic herald for any event He wants acknowledged."

"Hmm." Dean thought about the apocalypse, there was certainly no herald angel proclaiming that. Of course, Gabriel's dad wasn't exactly making any announcements. "Well you've sure been doing a great job with that."

And Gabriel flinched in response. He took a step away from Dean, trying to hide the emotions he hadn't shown for thousands of years, and finally spoke. "What's this case you have? I'll go take care of it."

Dean looked at Gabriel for a long while, thinking on the words that caused Gabriel trouble. "We think we have a ghost. The spirit of a woman has been taking children from their homes at night. A mother who's child was taken said she saw the woman wearing a gold cross. The mother can no longer see now, her eyes were mutilated."

"You're talking about La Sorene." Gabriel nodded. "I liked that lady. Her own child was murdered one night, and she went crazy. The local asylum had her committed after she tried kidnapping a neighbor's child. She killed herself after a week. It happened in this area, I believe."

"And the eyes?" Dean asked. This was a wealth of information neither he nor Sam had found online.

"Not sure. I know she was going blind, but that doesn't explain the mutilation."

"She didn't see her own child murdered, perhaps she doesn't want the parents to see it happen either." Dean answered. "You said you liked her?"

"Yeah, actually. When she was alive and attempted to kidnap the child, it was because she knew the child was being abused, and couldn't stand it." Gabriel answered, becoming lost in the memory. "I only knew her because I was in the area, and about to let off my own grace bomb as the Trickster. Her actions did lead to an investigation, and the child grew up with a very kind relative in the end."

"But now she's gone rogue." Sam replied, picking up a rifle and loading some shells into it. "And we've got to destroy her."

Dean noticed as Gabriel gave Sam a long look. Finally, the messenger of god spoke, "Or we could send her off to reclaim her peace. That might be easier."

This revelation started a whole new conversation that both hunters listened to with rapt attention. It turned out, angels could carry spirits between earth and heaven fairly easily.

"It's harder moving through Hell, because that's Lucifer's territory." Gabriel said, and Dean didn't miss it when his eyes darted to Sam. Hope sprang up inside him, and Dean fingered the horn once more. Gabriel continued, "I'll be right back."

With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel disappeared. Sam wondered out loud, "Why does he snap his fingers when using his power?"

"Castiel told me once." Dean replied, amused. "It's a bad habit the archangels have. It takes less concentration, which we know the Trickster has some trouble with."

Gabriel appeared again. "It's done. Nice job with the research, boys. It wasn't a ghost at all, just a witch. She's enjoying some time as a five-year-old, and will be for the next hundred years."

Dean winced. "We need to talk about your tricks, Gabriel..."

**A/N:** **Just a reminder. If you know anything about Beta Readers, I'd appreciate the input. Thanks!**

**I look forward to the much hoped-for reviews.**


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